


Dreams

by ambiguous_nights



Series: Tumblr Fics [6]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: But Mostly Hurt, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:00:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26049928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguous_nights/pseuds/ambiguous_nights
Summary: General Grievous has been waiting a very long time to get his hands on General Kenobi.
Relationships: Grievous | Qymaen jai Sheelal & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Tumblr Fics [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878646
Comments: 7
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

Grievous doesn’t dream like he used to. He barely sleeps and when he does his dreams are nothing but flashes of Kalee and the life he used to have. He doesn’t remember much of home. All he remembers is blood and rage. And that rage finally has an outlet.

Grievous bounces from foot to foot with excitement as the turbolift heads downward from the bridge towards the brig. He has spent so much of this war killing Jedi, but none have presented the challenge to him that Kenobi has. They have faced each other in countless battles, general against general, one strategist against another. He sought Kenobi out every chance he had. It was exhilarating. Nobody challenged him like Kenobi.

And now his nemesis is in the brig, captured after Grievous had blown up his flagship. The droids are chasing down the clones in their escape pods, shipping them off to POW camps. But not Kenobi. No, he has something special planned for him.

The tubrolift doors open and Grievous composes himself. It wouldn’t do for Kenobi to see just how excited he is to finally have him in his grasp. It would give the insufferable Jedi an advantage he has no right to.

Grievous stops outside a cell door surrounded by magna guards. Though he would never admit it to Kenobi, Grievous had designed this cell specifically for him in the hopes that one day Kenobi would fill it. Anyone can hold a Jedi in a containment field, but containment fields are so impersonal, so boring. No, Grievous had spent many hours researching everything he could about Jedi and their abilities. And then he had designed this cell.

Grievous types in the passcode to the cell. A dozen locks slide audibly out of place, then the door snicks open.

Kenobi stands in the center of the cell, arms outstretched and held in place by beskar chains. The cuffs around his wrists have been welded tightly closed. The chains around his ankles have also been welded shut, keeping his legs apart and his bare feet against the floor to prevent him from kicking out. Tiny burns from the welding torch litter Kenobi’s skin and clothing. The droids had removed Kenobi’s armor and boots, but Grievous wanted to be the one to remove the rest of his clothing. He wants to see the fear in the Kenobi’s eyes when he’s left completely vulnerable.

Kenobi raises his head, his eyes defiant. He’s not afraid. Jedi know pain. They do not fear it, they embrace it. But Grievous has been dreaming up ways to torment Kenobi for years. Kenobi has not experienced pain like what Grievous will inflict on him.

“Hello there,” Kenobi says with a smirk on his face.

The door closes and locks behind him. Grievous struts forward until he’s towering over Kenobi. “General Kenobi,” Grievous says. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a one shot, but I wrote two more chapters for it. I also upped the rating because the torture is more graphic.

Obi-wan has always dreamed of pain. He had known since he was small that he was meant for infinite sadness, though he had not been able to verbalize it until he was much older. All he knew was fear, and later anger, as he grew up and rebelled against the notion that his dreams could someday become reality and that he might one day find himself completely and utterly alone.

Here, in this cell, he dares not dream. When he does, they are kind dreams, soft dreams, of Anakin and Ahsoka and Cody and his friends in the Jedi Temple.

It only makes it more painful to return to his broken body.

He lets his head fall to his chest and closes his eyes. His legs are too weak to support his body, leaving his shoulders and wrists at the mercy of the chains holding him up. It is a dull, suffocating ache, barely even notable compared to the rest of the damage Grievous had done.

Obi-wan had known what Grievous would do to him the moment he had woken up. The Force here was heavy with Grievous’s fantasies, a testament to the amount of time Grievous had spent in this room, building and shaping it into exactly what he wanted. Obi-wan felt the echoes of Grievous’s twisted desires crawling across his skin, reaching inside him, and ripping him apart with each shuddering breath he took.

It wouldn’t be long before Grievous returned to fulfill those fantasies.

Obi-wan uses what energy he has to direct the Force to numb the pain. There’s no point in trying to heal himself. The med droid sitting in the corner of the room would heal the worst of it, but only just enough to keep him alive. Healing the minor wounds only gave Grievous more space to cut and burn his skin.

The Force slips out of reach as his exhaustion catches up to him, but not before he senses Grievous approaching.

He swallows around the lump in his throat. He’s not sure how much more of this he can take. Grievous had already broken his bones and ripped out his nails and peeled the skin from his legs. And after all that, the cyborg had left him with the choice between being blinded and being castrated.

Both are probably inevitable, but Grievous did enjoy making Obi-wan participate in his own torture by choosing. And when he refused to choose, Grievous would threaten to bomb a planet to oblivion.

So, Obi-wan chose. He chose to have his nails ripped out rather than his shoulders dislocated. He chose to have his arms broken rather than his legs. He chose to be cut rather than burned.

It only made the pain worse.

Obi-wan sucks in a steadying breath and opens his eyes as the door locks release. He will endure. He will have no choice but to endure.

Even if this never ends.


	3. Chapter 3

He’s more machine than Grievous was by the time the healers allowed him out of bed. His mechanical limbs feel heavy and clunky. His mechanical eyes can’t seem to focus right. His artificial organs and teeth feel wrong in a way he can’t quite explain. Huge swathes of skin have been replaced by synthetic skin to grant him mobility where scar tissue would have grown and become too limiting.

It doesn’t feel like his body anymore. He doesn’t recognize himself when he looks in the mirror before him. The healers had tried to reconstruct him, but there was only so much they could do.

“Obi-wan?” Vokara says. She stands beside his hoverchair, ready to help him back to his bed from the refresher. It will be weeks more before he’s ready to stand on his own, let alone walk. Learning to walk again, to function in his daily life, will take months of intense physical therapy and a dozen more surgeries. And even after what could be years in the care of the healers, he would never fully recover.

The pain Grievous put him through was more than he could ever have imagined. The pain that comes with healing will be just as bad. Obi-wan isn’t so sure this will all be worth it.

It would be easier if Grievous had killed him in those final moments when the Separatist general had been surrounded by a dozen Jedi. His lightsaber had been at Obi-wan’s neck as a warning the others to stay back. Obi-wan would have welcomed death then. He’d been in so much pain and kept awake only by the cocktail of drugs Grievous had pumped into him.

But Grievous had never been one to grant his opponents mercy.

The cyborg had surrendered himself. And Obi-wan had been left alive.

“I—” Obi-wan says, then stops. He doesn’t know what to tell her. He doesn’t know if he can. His voice is raspy and unrecognizable, though the healers had promised him a vocal emulator once his throat was healed. He isn’t sure he wants one. He isn’t Obi-wan Kenobi, Jedi master and general, anymore.

He’s too broken.

He looks away from the mirror, away from his ruined body. “Let’s go,” Obi-wan says, his voice cracking before he can stop it.

“It won’t be the same,” Vokara says, sensing his distress. “But this doesn’t have to be the end for you.” She reaches out with the Force, brushing against his misery and offering a gentle sureness. “We’ll find a way forward.”

Obi-wan looks down at his mechanical hands. He doesn’t want to believe her. He can’t.

“Anakin and Ahsoka will be back on Coruscant tomorrow,” she says as she takes him back to his bed. “They’ve requested to come visit you. I think you should let them.”

Obi-wan swallows. He hadn’t let them visit before. He hadn’t wanted to be seen trapped in a bed, too weak to even feed himself. He doesn’t want to show them his new face, ugly and twisted by scars and burns and synthetic skin. But he can’t ignore them forever. They’re his family and their absence is tearing a hole in his heart.

“Alright,” Obi-wan says. “They can come.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so.... this story is growing. slowly. maybe. not really sure when there will be more.

Ahsoka’s dreams are always nightmares now, thanks to the war. They’ve only gotten worse since Obi-wan returned. She had been among the Jedi that rescued him, though she had not recognized him at first. She had not imagined such things could be done to a living being. 

He looks better now. His organs are back under his skin. His eyes are no longer gaping holes. But she cannot escape the memories.

She sets down her now empty cup of tea and looks up at Obi-wan. He sits in his medical bed, a slight smile on his face as Anakin regales him with an account of their latest training exercises and the 501st’s shipwide game of capture the flag. Obi-wan had even laughed when Anakin told him how Rex had ended up covered in blue paint as part of Fives’s booby trap around their flag.

But Obi-wan is exhausted and hurting. It leaks into the Force even as he tries to keep it contained. Anakin seems unaware, his own perception of the Force drowned out by his own powerful presence, but it won’t escape his notice for long.

And then he’ll begin to worry again. Spending anytime near a worried Anakin Skywalker was like sitting next to a faulty radio that spat out static so loudly it left her head buzzing. She doesn’t think Obi-wan would want that either. He never liked being worried over.

“Anakin,” Ahsoka says. “It’s getting late. Why don’t we get some dinner?”

“But—” Anakin says.

“Go on,” Obi-wan says. “You do have to feed your padawan.”

Anakin’s eyes narrow slightly, suspicious Obi-wan is trying to make him leave. It’s not an unfounded concern, but Ahsoka doesn’t think Obi-wan will be attempting an escape from the healers anytime soon. Anakin doesn’t need to worry about stopping him.

“I’m really hungry,” Ahsoka says, trying not to sound like she’s whining, but failing. Oh well. She can sacrifice a little dignity if it means Anakin will actually sleep tonight. 

“Alright. We’ll be back tomorrow, okay?” Anakin says. He had tried to get permission to spend the night here, but Healer Che had insisted that Obi-wan be given his privacy at night. Obi-wan spent most of his day surrounded by healers, undergoing physical therapy and check-ups and occasionally additional surgeries. He needed time alone. 

“Of course,” Obi-wan says. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Anakin smiles, then leaves, probably expecting Ahsoka to follow just at his heels. No doubt he’ll run off to tell Padme that Obi-wan is alive and well. He only rarely eats dinner with Ahsoka when they were on Coruscant, so it’s not a surprise when he doesn’t glance back to check on her.

Ahsoka pauses in the doorway. Her eyes finally meet Obi-wan’s. “May the Force be with you,” Ahsoka says, but it feels strangely hollow. Obi-wan has already lost so much. And she had nothing to offer, no way of taking away the pain that had been inflicted on him.

“And with you, Ahsoka,” he says, but his eyes are not on hers anymore. She dreads leaving him alone in this quiet and empty room.

But a Jedi is never really alone, she tells herself. And she’ll be back tomorrow with Anakin, who will no doubt have even more stories to fill the silence. She’ll bring her own stories and gossip, along with some of the jokes Rex had told her.

It is all she can offer him.

**Author's Note:**

> I take prompts on my [Tumblr](https://geodax.tumblr.com/)


End file.
